Cabinet of Pertubation
by Elfana
Summary: She twirled around, glaring at the phonograph. "Just remember they can all be saved. There is always a way."     Will follow the gameplay and thus contains SPOILERS! Read at own risk!
1. Bienvenue

**A/N: **Hello! Welcome to my new Amnesia Story! x3 Since I happen to love this amazing game. Also, I'm quite busy with school and everything, but I had to write it. Unf.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Amnesia: Justine or any of its characters~ Sadly. xD_

* * *

><p>Pain was the first thing she registered as she woke up from her slumber. A sharp pain was throbbing through her head, pulsing with her heartbeat. She opened her eyes and blinked a few times… A rope… and a lantern. It was cold here, wherever here was.<p>

She closed her eyes again, feeling too tired to get up yet.

The second time she woke up the pain in her head had faded a little. She tried moving her arms and legs when a sound startled her. She gasped and a high voice left her own mouth.

A loud noise, sounding a little too human for her likes. Horribly gasping for air. The sound of chains being moved, jingling. She spotted a shadowy figure behind the barred door. It appeared to be watching her, making breathing sounds. She was about to call out, not sure in fear or for help, but the figure turned around. It walked away, its chains clattering with each step. It appeared to limp a little.

Sudden panic and dizziness took over her brain and she laid her head down once more, whimpering softly.

She couldn't stay here, she reasoned. She figured out she was supposed to get up… and get out of this room. She surely hadn't been put here to stay, because there was no food and no comfort anywhere. Was this her house? Did she had a chamber like this hidden in her house?

The young woman swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried standing up, which went perfectly fine. She stretched her body a little before walking over to a lone candle on a little table. The candle flickered soothing. Had she lit it? The white candle was still large, which meant it had been light not long ago.

Next to the little table was a phonograph. Was she supposed to listen to music? Was this a therapy? She frowned and turned the crank at the right. A rope was knotted at the end of the crack, leading towards the ceiling where she knew a lantern was located.

She finished turning the crank and waited for music to play. Instead of music like had she expected, she heard a female voice, speaking to her. Greeting her. Bidding her welcome to her 'Cabinet of Perturbation' as she called it. The phonograph was so loud! She glanced to the barred door. What if that … thing heard it and came back here? It had seen her, didn't it? When nothing happened, she started listening to the woman again, who was still speaking to her through the phonograph.

Why would this woman lock her up here? What was so special about her human psyche, that she had been put into this chamber? Was she mad, a lunatic?

No. She shook her head. She was sure she wasn't mad. Her brain functioned perfectly fine, she was sure of it.

The woman wanted her to move into the next chamber. So she would do just that. She yanked at the barred door, which appeared to be locked. How could she leave when there was no one here and the door was locked? Was this some kind of sick joke?

She twirled around, glaring at the phonograph. "Just remember they can all be saved. There is always a way." The cylinder clicked and it went silent. She frowned again, reaching for the crank once more, but the phonograph wouldn't play the message again.

Turning her back on the phonograph, she began looking for a key. If she had to move into the next chamber, she had to get out of here first. A key should do the trick. She lifted the mattress off the bed and looked in the dried grass on the ground. There was no key.

Sighing, she lifted her head again, almost knocking the lantern. Why would it hang this low? She could hurt her head! It wasn't even burning. What a stupid place for a lantern. And why was there rope everywhere in this stupid little chamber? From the phonograph, to the ceiling with the lantern, to the door… She raised her arms and yanked the lantern off its rope.

Metallic sounds followed and the door scraped open.

She smiled pleased. So the lantern was the key to her freedom. She inspected the lantern, but it didn't had any oil inside. It was quite useless without oil. Yet, she took it with her. It was her first step to the glorious second she would step out of this cabinet.

The hallway she entered was dark and cold. There were large rocks and rubble everywhere, almost making her trip. The stone hurt her feet. Looking down, she noticed she was barefoot and wearing her large frilly underpants, reaching her knees. She reached for her hair, which appeared to be curly and hanging over her shoulders. Her skin was quite clean, like she had been washed not long ago.

Suddenly, the sounds of chains moving reached her ears. She gasped and threw herself against a wall. Where was it coming from? Should she hide? What was going on?

The sounds seemed to come from below, which was strange. Was there an opening somewhere? She softly moved forward again, her hand clenched around the handle of her lantern with no oil. Sure enough, she stepped on a loose rock and slipped, falling on the ground. Her metal companion rolled on the ground, away from her.

"Ouch…" She hissed. She scrabbled on her knees and wiped her face with the back of her hand. This was horrible. Perhaps she should go back to the chamber she had woken up in. Deciding that was not exactly better than this, she crawled towards her lantern. It has stopped before a little opening in the wall secured with bars. One bar had been snapped and angled.

She pressed herself against the ground and peeked through. It was light there, she could see some bed frames standing against the walls, together with some hanging cages. Did they keep some really big birds in here? Or perhaps… prisoners?

She shook her head and was about to get up when she heard the jingle of chains again. Petrified, she stayed where she was looking at a limping creature that was walking in the hallway below. She could see the chains on his body… She assumed it was a man. A horribly tortured man. The chains were wrapped around his limbs, even piercing his flesh. He whimpered and gasped as he slowly walked out of her sight. It looked like he was in great pain.

Did she knew him? Perhaps it was someone who she once knew… She couldn't tell. The man had been tortured beyond recognition. Poor soul…

She got up off the floor and wiped her hair out of her face. She had to move on. She followed the hallway and noticed a hanging lantern, burning like a little bacon. She quickly moved towards the light and stopped when she was in front of a door. A door… Perhaps this was the end of this horrible test.

Filled with hope, she yanked at the door, almost hitting it against her head as she went. She peeked inside and her hopes dropped.

A complete prison block. She was in a prison. There were bars and barrels everywhere. The floor in front of her also contained bars. It had been boarded up, the planks broken and mouldy. A lifeless whimper left her mouth as she stepped forward, carefully stepping over the gaping holes in the wood. At her left was a cell which read IV. Number four. At her right was a cell with a little plate that said I.

Moving right first, she put down her lantern on a table. A little bottle was standing on it, almost begging her to be picked up. It turned out to be a little bottle of laudanum. Her mood brightened at this discovery. She tucked the little bottle in her lantern, making it useful since it wasn't able to give her a light source. She placed the lantern on the wooden table again and focused on the first cell.

She flipped back the metal of the lock and yanked at the door, which made a shrieking sound when she opened it. She froze on the spot and listened if she could hear chains again. After several minutes of waiting and listening, she moved again. The cell was small and dirty. The chamber she had woken up in herself had been larger. There was, however, a little table with a small bottle of liquor.

Turning the bottle in her hands, she opened it and sniffed at the contents. It smelled sweet. She placed the bottle at her lips and tilted her head. The liquor burned in her throat, but it didn't bring back any memories. Disappointed she threw the bottle on the ground, shattering it.

There was more on the ground, dried grass and sheet music papers. They were shattered all around. She picked a few up, reading the titles. They were all famous and beloved pieces. Some papers had been splattered with blood. She shifted her eyes back to the floor, which was also covered with pools of red blood. She gasped and stepped back, her back hitting the bed frame that was standing against the wall. What had happened here?

When she was about to flee this chamber, she spotted something interesting. A violin. The person who had been locked here had been a violin player? The violin looked like it had been taken good care off. She pressed the violin against her chest and picked up the bow that was right next to it. She had never learned how to play violin, but tried it anyway. The sound the violin produced was like a dying cat and she stopped playing.

She placed the violin, the bow and the music sheets on the table and left the cell. Yes… a violin player. She made a mental note of it and took her lantern again. She crossed the room to cell number four and opened the door. Just when she stepped inside, she heard a familiar wheeze. In blind panic she threw herself in the corner of the cell she just entered and hid herself in a corner.

Chains jingled and more gasps were heard. Someone was getting closer. Slowly, limping… The sounds were getting louder. She silently prayed it would go away. She cursed herself for not closing the cell door. She was about to throw up out of fear. Suddenly, she heard a voice. Definitely male, confirming her earlier suspicions. It was a quite clear voice too. It sounded somewhat familiar, like she was supposed to know who this was. What the voice said, made her whimper in panic. He had heard her.

"Is that you, my love?"


	2. Investigation

**A/N: **And here is part two! I picture Justine to be quite smart, actually. Just a little unstable, but quite smart. Yup.

_Disclaimer: I do not own _Amnesia: Justine or any of its characters. Boo.

* * *

><p>Hidden in the corner of cell number four. Her exact location. The door was open for everyone to wander in. And <em>he<em> was outside there. Calling out for someone.

"No… Come back!" He cried. "Don't leave again…"

His voice was getting louder with each step he took. The chains rattled, his footsteps echoed. Was he just walking by? Did he knew she was here? It sounded like he was walking towards the cell she was hiding in. She clasped one of her hands over her mouth, afraid she would make sounds. He had heard her before… He could hear her again.

"Why did this happen?" He moaned.

She waited for the moment he would walk into her cell. He would notice the open door and he would look who was snooping around. Each second felt like hours. She had no idea what she would do if he would actually enter.

Just when she was about to lose it, she heard a door slam. Did he leave? She crawled over the floor, almost hitting a bucket. Was it more foggy than before? Her eyes scanned the prison block. He appeared to have left. She led out a relieved sigh. Moving back for her lantern, she noticed a paper in the cell. Curiously, she picked it up and scanned the page.

Police investigation… Justine Florbelle… my son, Alois… affair… hysteric… locked up…

What was going on? She skipped to see who signed the letter. Lucien Racine. The name didn't ring a bell. The name Justine gave her a familiar feeling in her chest, though. And Alois Racine… Hmm. She folded the note and tugged it between her waistband, not to keen on putting it in her top.

Grabbing her faithful lantern she exited the cell. Looking around, she walked over to the cell left from violin player's cell. The tag read II. She opened the door and entered, walking in on a rampage.

There had apparently been a chair here? She assumed, looking at the broken pieces of wood everywhere. The table had been flipped on its side… Someone had thrown a rage fit here, she concluded. There was blood on the walls, like someone had punched them with his bare fists.

She moved some of the pieces that once formed a chair and decided there wasn't anything here that would give her a clue on why she was here… or who she was. Leaving the cell, she crossed the room once more.

"Whoever you are, if you could help me, I would be much obliged."

She gasped and froze. Who was talking?

"Help me, please, help me."

She suddenly remembered the words the phonograph woman had told her. _"They can all be saved. There is always a way." _ She had to rescue this man!

The young woman started walking again. This cell was a little different from the other three. This one had an actual lock. She moved the lock in her hands. It was heavy and a little rusty, even. Was there a key somewhere here? Probably not. This cabinet didn't like keys very much.

Her eyes shifted to the right, where a lever was placed. What did that do? She finally peeked through the bars into the cell. There was a man, strapped on a table. A sharp metal spear was hanging above him. His head was hidden in a sack.

"Is anyone there?" He asked and moved around, trying to break free.

Perhaps that lever would free him. She could always try. Grabbing the lever, she yanked it down and waited. She almost couldn't hear the man speak up when the sound of metal being moved pierced through the air.

"Please! Please be reasonable!" He gasped, afraid. "You don't have to do this."

She quickly looked into his cell again. The spear had lowered, nearing his chest… It would kill him! Backing off quickly, she decided to ignore the man and his spear. There were still two more rooms to check out… She should do that first.

In the cell next to the man's was a white candle burning. She opened the gate and entered. Another flipped table… and a bed. On the bed was a book. The bible? She flipped through it briefly before tossing it on the bed again. Okay, what did she have now… a violin player… a cleric… a prisoner… Justine Florbelle… Alois Racine. There had to be some more information.

She sneaked out the cell again and stepped over a door that had been blasted out of his rightful place. Looking to the left, where the door was supposed to be, she noticed a cave in. She couldn't go through there. She raised her hands in agony. While doing so, she spotted a trap door on the ceiling. Perhaps she could exit the prison through that…

Nodding to herself, she entered the last cell. The door was standing open before she had even touched it. She frowned at this curious event. Did that man… the wheezing man… came out of here? She struggled it off and entered. Another little table.

On the table was a note and a message written in blood. _Forgive me._

She touched the table as if she accepted the apology. She picked up the note next, reading it. It was a short love letter addressed to Justine. The writer cut himself to prove his love for Justine… He would even kill Basile and Malo.

New names. She noted them down in her memory.

The writer said he would help Justine, if she would ask for help. The letter was signed with Alois.

Oh! She remembered reading that Alois Racine and Justine Florbelle had been having an affair! And he was asking for forgiveness for something. She tucked the love letter between her waistband like the first one and scanned the cell. A broken racquet on the ground… Perhaps this man… that had been locked up here… Alois? Could it be Alois that had been locked up here? Perhaps he had played real tennis or something.

She pondered. So Alois had been locked up here. Could he be that limping man from before? He surely was searching for Justine. But… where was Justine in all this?

Turning around, she spotted another message written in blood.

_I am so sorry._

This… was his own blood, she assumed. The note had said he would cut himself. He wrote this to express his sincere apology. Thinking things over, she started looking for a ladder to get up the trap door. She wanted to leave this damned prison block.

"Have you seen Justine?" The prisoned man asked her as he heard her pass by. So this man also knew Justine. She had a feeling Justine was the key character in this mysterious game. Ignoring the man, who rambled on, she spotted a place where a ladder could be hiding.

It was a little plateau, made of wood. On top of it were boxes and chests. Perhaps there was a ladder there. Yes, this could work. She moved around some boxes that she found on the ground and added some chairs and barrels. With that, she was able to climb on top of the plateau.

To her disappointment there were only boxes and chests here, like she had seen from below. She dropped herself down on a box, catching her breath. There was a huge chest here and she had no way to open it. She huffed and kicked some boxes down. Her eye caught a small object behind the chest. She lowered herself and stretched her arm. She felt her fingers wrap themselves around it.

Voilà.

It turned out to be a wax cylinder, for in a phonograph. She groaned. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear that woman talk to her again. With the cylinder in her hand, she jumped down on her box tower, lowering herself on the ground again.

The wax cylinder was stuffed inside the lantern and she brushed her hands through her hair. She would have to make another box tower to get to the trap door in the ceiling.

And thus, after some time stomping around with the boxes and barrels, a tower was made on the other end of the prison block. She had knocked her tower over a few times when she wanted to place a new box on top of it, but after some patience and handy work, her tower was ready.

She was glad when she could reach the trap door and it swung open, creaking when it moved. She was about to get through, when she noticed that she wasn't tall enough to actually climb inside.

No way. This couldn't be true! She also couldn't add another box, because the she had used all the boxes. There were only barrels and chairs left!

Groaning softly, she climbed down again. What could she do now?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And that was part two! 8D I'm currently writing part three, if anyone's interested xD


	3. Escape

**A/N: **And here's chapter 3 xD I can't say I'm very motivated to continue this, but this chapter was almost done so I finished it today. I'm not sure if you should be waiting for chapter 4, lolol.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Amnesia: The Dark Descent / Amnesia: Justine or any of its characters._

* * *

><p>The only place she hadn't checked was the hallways attached to the chamber she had woken up in. There had been some paths there she didn't check. Perhaps she should go back to see if there was something she could use to escape the prison block.<p>

She sneaked past the door she had never bothered to close and focussed on the burning lantern on the wall. Perhaps she could take it with her. She tried snapping it off the wall, but it wouldn't budge. So she would have to walk through this dark hallway again, once more without light.

The stones were cold and painful against the soles of her feet. The stones were very uneven and she had to be careful she wouldn't slip and hurt her legs. She walked slowly, carefully. She needed to take her time to check her surroundings, anything that could help her…

She reached a corner and was about to move past it, when she heard moaning and whimpering again. Oh no… She pressed herself against the walls and looked around, her hair smacked in her face when she abruptly turned her head.

There he was. He limped right towards her. She could finally see him clearly. Everywhere on his body were scars and bloody cuts. His skin was awful pale. He wheezed and moaned. His steps were uncertain and he appeared to struggle with each step.

With that, he walked right past her. She let out her breath but he turned around again.

"Is that you I hear?"

He looked right at her! How could he not see her? Was he blind? Blood slipped over his cheeks, his eyes black… missing even? He couldn't see.

"No… Come back…" He moaned and struggled back to where she was. She closed her eyes and waited for him to pass. Only when she couldn't hear his voice or the chains anymore, she dared to look again. He was gone.

She felt her knees buckle and she dropped herself on the ground. She was sure that those moments were the most terrifying events she had ever witnessed. What could have happened to him, that he was forced to walk around here like this?

Gathering her thoughts she crawled over the floor, carefully listening if she heard the man again. He was desperately searching for someone, for Justine…

Dizziness took over her head and she dropped herself on the ground. Her head throbbed painfully. She leaned against a pile of rocks, her hand hitting something. She looked and gasped when she saw a wooden ladder. No… Just a little piece of what once was a ladder… Still, this could be it. The thing she could use to finally leave this damned prison.

Softly grabbing the broken ladder and got off from the ground. She listened carefully and could faintly hear the jingling chains that were keeping Alois bound. She had to get out of here. He was still looking for Justine! And she was making noise, making him aware of her position.

She walked as fast and silently as she could back to where her box tower was standing, hoping he wouldn't come after her.

In her panic, she smacked the broken ladder against the metal door. The sound echoed through the halls. A soft whimper escaped her lips when she could hear the jingle of chains getting closer.

"Is that you, my love? You came for me!" His voice was getting louder.

She dashed out of the hallway, running over the wood and bars on the floor in the prison. She could hear Alois behind her, quickening his steps. She gasped and tried not to trip, making her way towards the box tower she had made. Would she make it? She spotted her lantern standing on the boxes and quickly grabbed it too. She couldn't leave it here.

"No! Stay!" Alois yelled behind her. He wanted nothing more than to stay with his beloved Justine. She could hear it in his voice. So lonely… broken, even.

She got on her tower and attached her ladder piece with shaking hands. She quickly grabbed it, pulling herself up, her feet on the ladder. She could hear the boxes below her break and she saw Alois knocking over the tower.

"Where did you go? Come back…" He wailed and halted his steps. He couldn't hear her anymore. He was standing there, defeated and alone.

Biting her lip, she climbed further up and hid herself in the shaft she found. She glanced back once more at Alois, who slumped away. Deciding that she didn't care, she turned her back and crawled through the tunnel. It was dirty and full of dust. Nobody had been here for ages. Spider webs decorated the corners and rocks and rubble was everywhere.

Suddenly, she heard a wheeze in her ear. The walls started shaking and the wheezing got louder.

B-But… there was no way he could be here! It was so narrow here and he busted over that box tower she made! He couldn't be here. He couldn't!

After a while the sounds died down and she dared to move again.

Crawling through the dirt and spider webs, she finally spotted a way to get out of this blasted tunnel. There was an opening here, leading to a hallway. She spotted the iron gate, that had been closing the passage off, on the ground.

She sat down, her legs swinging over the edge. She jumped down, landing with a smack. Pain shot through her body, but it went as soon as it came. She was fine. She had made it.

A phonograph greeted her silently. It was standing near another cave in and she wondered why the building was in such a wrecked state. She walked closer and wrapped her fingers around the crank. There appeared to be no cylinder in the phonograph.

The woman smirked as she pulled out the wax cylinder she had managed to take with her. She placed it in the phonograph and turned the crank once more.

"Speak into the phonograph, Basile, mon chéri." The same voice from before and a familiar name.

A male voice moaned. "What did you put into the wine?"

The woman had drugged him, she concluded.

She sat down on the rocks and looked around. Was that a path of blood? She shivered. What had happened here?

"Your beauty is blinding," Basile grunted through the phonograph. "AGHR! Justine! This isn't funny! You blinded me!"

Justine, chanted at him, laughing in his face. Basile growled.

"I'll kill you, you whore!"

The young woman turned her head, starting at the phonograph. She felt the urge to… laugh. Why was this so funny? Soft giggles escaped her throat, getting louder as time went on. Soon enough she was laughing hard, wiping the tears of her face.

Gasping for air, she took her useless lantern with her and followed the path of blood. It lead to a door, surrounded by candles. She frowned at the burning candles, placing her lantern on the wood next to them. Why are they lit?

She shrugged and opened the door. A table? No. That wasn't a table. And this wasn't a normal room.

The table had iron devices on top, clearly used to hold a human. The whole room suddenly drawled on her. Robes, knifes, bottles and blood splatters.

This was a torture chamber.


	4. Light

**A/N: **You guys own this chapter to 'Link' who reviewed the story and gave me new motivation to write x3 So, thanks for reviewing! :D

_Disclaimer: I do not own Amnesia: The Dark Descent / Amnesia: Justine or any of its characters. _

* * *

><p>Trembling, she closed the door behind her. There was blood everywhere, she could smell it clearly. Torture devices were shattered over the floor and on the tables. She felt her knees give out, falling on the dirty ground.<p>

She softly muttered to herself, shaking her head trying to get a grip on the situation. She raised her hands, now covered in blood and she grabbed a hold of the table to lift herself off the ground.

A candle was lit on the table and she could feel its warmth. The candle light made it possible to see the drawings that were placed on the wall with nails. They were grotesque paintings, drawn with coal. They shower torturing, horrible pained faces and devices she didn't even want to know how they were used. Why… was this all here? They looked like some kind of manual how to use the objects in this room…

On the table were, together with some bloody handprints, much more iron and copper objects, a hammer with some nails, a knife, a round circle on a stick… She raised her head again. The stick was visible on a painting of person, near his eye… Could this be… how you should blind people? The brutal lines of Basile echoed in her head.

"_Justine! This isn't funny! You blinded me!" _

In her attempt to get away from the table she knocked an empty bottle off the table, the green liquid that had once been inside of the bottle had made a stain on the table. It shattered at her feet, making her gasp and tumbled on the ground.

A fire was softly burning at her right. The calm sounds comforted her for a little. But… no… There was another of those horrible torture devices in the fire, heating up, ready to burn skin.

She whimpered and leaned away from the fire, bumping against a little table. The movement almost knocked the three candles on top of it over and she quickly steadied the table. On top of the table was a letter… no… a newspaper article.

_19 March, 1858 _

_Travesty at the Conservatory_

_Many Parisians had gathered last night to enjoy the performance of violin virtuoso, Malo de Vigny._

_[…]_

_Young Malo de Vigny turned up visibly intoxicated […] and collapsed._

_Mademoiselle Justine Florbelle according to the rumours romantically involved with Monsieur de Vigny […] had two of her friends, Basile Giroux and Alois Racine, carry him off stage._

Biting on her lip she folded the article and stuffed it together with the others. So everyone knew each other. At least Justine and her three... lovers? Could they be her lovers? But… they knew of each other, didn't they? Alois had proven that fact by mentioning them in his note.

Her head throbbed and she felt dizzy. The dominant smell of blood was still getting to her… She had to get out of here. Leaning against the wall for support, ignoring the paintings that were placed the, she managed to walk past the torture table in the middle of the room.

Tilting her head, she looked at the phonograph. Had it been here when she entered? She must have missed it at first. She impatiently turned the crack.

"Congratulations on coming this far, I'm so excited for you!" The woman, as she now had confirmed to be Justine spoke up, sounding pleased. "I do hope you managed to save Monsieur Fournier."

She did. She hadn't killed him, at least. And Alois couldn't get to him. But… didn't that mean he was to starve and die in his cell? How was that saving someone? She didn't got a lot of time to think about it, because Justine rambled on.

"Please go on, we are just getting started."

And with a final click the recording ended.

The woman let out a sigh and opened the door again. There wasn't anything of importance in this torture room left. She picked up her useless lantern and continued on her way. Following the stairs that were leading down, she found a pretty decorated door. Colourful flags were decorating the walls. It looked inviting, which said a lot after you just excited a torture chamber.

Pushing open the heavy door, she entered the new found room… and almost left just as quickly. There was someone standing next to the door! His head was bowed and his hands were tied together. She was about to leave but found the door jammed. A scream escaped her, but nothing happened. The man didn't move and it only drawled to her then that it was a statue.

She sighed relieved. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest as she looked around. The whole hallway decorated with the same statue standing against the wall. Whoever decorated this place had a creepy sense of style.

With a growl she noticed the phonograph in front of her and considered not listening to it… but that would be unwise. This was left here for her. It couldn't hurt to hear what Justine had to tell her next.

"On this next piece you should be looking for some divine inspiration." Justine started. "What do you see? Is the man begging for mercy or is he being blessed?"

What man? She sighed and suddenly felt very tired. She had only completed one task yet, Justine had said so. How many more had Justine planned for her?

"Father used to say, there were no right answers!" Justine chirped through the phonograph. "Have the light guide you!"

The light! That was a low blow. The lantern she was carrying with her couldn't even be lit without oil. Resisting the urge to kick the phonograph she opened the first door at her right. It appeared to be a little study. Books and papers covered the desk. There was even a slide for a light box! Had this been left here on purpose.

Candles lit up the room nicely as she rummaged through the stuff on the desk. A particular paper stood out to her, laying on top of a opened book.

It was some kind of test result. She quickly scanned the page. Justine's name popped up, but she couldn't really tell what this was about. It did mention four slides. She had found one… so there should be three more? She quickly checked the drawers of the desk, where she found a few tinderboxes.

Alright, looking for slides. She excited the study and opened the door across the hallway. It was pitch black in there but her eyes got used to the darkness fairly quickly. A hanging lantern drew her attention. She could light that now!

She moved a box around, standing on top of it. She removed the glass from the lantern and used the tinderbox to light the candle. As soon as it caught fire the room was lit. Satisfied, she placed the glass on the lantern again and jumped down.

This appeared to be a little storage. Scrolls of paper were scattered over the ground and on the shelves. An armour was standing in a corner. On the top of one of the wooden shelves she spotted a dusty shield. A storage was a place where people stored stuff… like perhaps slides for a light box.

She nodded to herself and checked the shelves. Some more tinderboxes and scrolls… there even was some kind of urn here. She picked it up and examined the decorations on top. It was decorated with lovely curls, almost invisible through the dust. Moving the object around to clean it, it slipped out of her fingers, shattering on the ground. A huge explosion of dust followed, making the woman cough.

Still coughing, she quickly left the room, slamming the door shut behind her.


End file.
